Mysteries of Life

Today I slept in till noon, got up, and took a nap, but I did have time to do a few productive things, like ponder the following mysteries:

Why is it that plots that seem utterly compelling in a dream don't make any sense when you wake up?  For example, I am eternally working on a novel, let's call it The Great American Hat Novel, and today I had a dream that the hats would all meet in New Orleans on Spring Break, when one hat was escaping from a vicious employer and the other hats provided refuge in their hotel room... and then I woke up and thought, "That makes no more sense than the way the story is now."  Less, even.  But it was so great in the dream!  (Maybe Hardingfele can comment on this, since she is the only one who has read this book - besides me - and her assessment of it was, "It was so weird that I couldn't put it down!"  Would New Orleans on Spring Break make you even less likely to put it down?)

Why did my office mate Light Bright leave me a chirpy message saying she had hooked up the filter on my small aquarium the Tallis Palace, and it was working very well so I wouldn't have to come in to clean out the Tallis Palace, but when I stopped by this evening the filter was turned off, the Palace was filthy, and Tallis and Taverner are at Death's doorstep?  If it was working so well, why did she turn it off?  If she didn't turn it off, who did?  This is the kind of mystery that makes me want to never return to work.  In fact, it makes me want to change my identity, burn my fingerprints off with acid, and move to Mexico.  Is someone trying to give me a message, the kind of message other people get with horse heads in their beds?  I have never appreciated people making innocent animals suffer to send a message to other people.  You got something to say, say it to me - leave my fish out of it.

Do you think if I went down to New Orleans I could find some fun people on vacation who would give me refuge in their hotel room? 

Famous Hat